


we are links in a chain

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: Daisy and Della always were good at throwing Donald off beat.





	1. silver and gold

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back! Expect at least one more chapter to this, eventually.   
> I thought there was a lot of potential in the fact that Donald has apparently had the boys since before they actually hatched, so that's what we're dealing with here. I can't write Ducktales without some Donald drama apparently.   
> Bonus: married!Mickey and Minnie Mouse, because I can. It'll be important later.

Mickey and Minnie’s living room door banged open. Donald Duck skidded into the room, moving so fast he couldn’t stop himself from colliding with the sofa. “Mick! Min! _We found Della!”_

“You found her?” asked a female voice that did _not_ belong to Minnie Mouse. “Was she lost?”

Donald blinked. “Daisy?”

Sure enough, there she was, looking every bit as gorgeous as the last time Donald had seen her – maybe even more so. She was perched on the couch with Minnie, both of them holding mugs of tea. In his frenzy to get in and spill the Della mess to the Mouses, he’d blown right past them.

“She – I – _hi_ , Dais,” stuttered Donald.

“Hi, Donnie,” Daisy responded, smiling. She had this funny, soft look in her eyes that Donald really didn’t have the time or energy to break down right now. “It’s been a while.”

It had been twelve years.

“No kidding,” replied Donald.

Mickey clicked his tongue to get Donald’s attention. “Don – Della?”

Donald’s eyes flicked to Daisy one more time before he said, “We brought her home. She’s – she’s at Scrooge’s. With the kids.”

Minnie let out a small, pained sound, apparently despite herself.

Mickey stood up and put a hand on Donald’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” Donald sighed. “I’ve missed her. And the boys - ” he gave a halfhearted shrug – “they’re excited.”

Mickey pulled Donald into a hug. Donald was vaguely aware of Minnie ducking out into the kitchen, saying something about putting the kettle back on. When he glanced back, Donald realized she’d taken Daisy with her.

“You’re not going to lose your kids, Donald,” Mickey said firmly.

“But they’re _not_ my kids,” Donald replied, a little desperate. “Della has _always_ been Mom. I’m just Uncle Donald.”

“So they were Dell’s eggs,” said Mickey, squeezing Donald’s shoulders again. “You raised them! Through all the late nights and sick days and homework and crises – they were Dell’s eggs, Don, but they’re _your_ sons.”

Donald’s legs decided to disappear from under him around then, and he found himself landing heavily on the loveseat, his head falling into his hands. “They don’t know, Mickey. The boys don’t know they’re not legally Della’s.”

“You never told them?”

“Why would I?” Donald asked, his palms pressing into his eyes. “Della was dead! Why should I take that – take _them_ away from her?”

“But they _are_ yours,” Mickey said. He sat back down next to Donald, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” replied Donald. He picked his head up. “Yeah, on their hatch certificates I’m listed as the imprint parent - the first person they saw when they hatched. Della’s just, uh, non-attendant biological parent or something like that.” He waved a hand in little circles, trying to find words. “I think if it came down to it I’d have priority just on that? But I don’t want it to come to that.”

“It won’t.”

“I should have just lied to them,” Donald said. “Or told them the truth? I guess it’s a lie either way, isn’t it?”

“You mean you should’ve just told them they were yours?” asked Mickey. He shrugged. “They would’ve asked questions eventually. How old were they the first time they asked about Della?”

“Three.” Donald rubbed his temples. “A lie wouldn’t have worked, anyway. Last time I was involved with anybody was –“ Donald gestured toward the kitchen, the move a little uncontrolled. “I’m pretty sure the boys think I’m some kind of robot.” He flopped backwards into the couch cushions. “And of course _she’s_ back in the country now, too, because that’s just how the girls operate, isn’t it?”

“Don –“

Donald shook his head, standing up. “Sorry for bursting in, Mick, I should go home. I can’t do –“ he waved at the kitchen again – “ _this_ right now.”

The doorbell rang. Mickey stood up next to Donald, looking confused. “We’re not expecting anyone else today. We weren’t even expecting you.”

“I’ll get it!” Minnie called. A few moments later, they heard the door open. “Oh, Della! Hello!”

\--

Minnie had pulled Daisy into the kitchen with a word about putting on more tea. She really did put the kettle on, then leaned against the kitchen counter between the sink and the stove.

“So, Donald.”

“Donald,” agreed Daisy. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t expect to just run into him. Although I guess I was bound to see him eventually.”

“Well one way or another, he’s here, and you’re here. How are you feeling?” Minnie asked.

Daisy shrugged. “It’s been a while, that’s for sure,” she said.

The two of them just stood in silence for a long moment. Twelve years was an awfully long time.

“Dais, you should know – Don’s not the same as he was when you left,” Minnie said, tapping her foot a little. “He’s – Della disappeared almost eleven years ago now, we all thought she was dead. “ She sighed. “She left a clutch of eggs behind, with Donald. He’s been raising them like they’re his own kids.”

“He’s a dad?” asked Daisy, a little shocked “Donald Duck? _My_ Donald Duck?”

“That’s what I’m saying Dais, he’s not your Donald Duck anymore. He hasn’t been in a long time.” Minnie bit her lip a little.

“What do you mean? What’s he like?”

“Honestly? A lot mellower,” answered Minnie. “Like, you know how he was.”

Daisy laughed. “Better than anyone. Sweet, but that _temper!_ And the constant running off, all the girls -”

“He’s still got the temper,” Minnie conceded, “but he gave up adventuring around when the boys hatched – triplets, by the way, their names are Huey, Dewey, and Louie. And I don’t think he’s had a date in – well, at least since the boys.” She didn’t make eye contact with Daisy. In reality, Donald hadn’t been out with anyone more than once since the two of them split twelve years previously, although he hadn’t given up on trying until he took responsibility for Della’s eggs. “Mickey and I sat for the boys when Jose and Panchito were in town last summer and Donald was home by _ten_.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same man?” Daisy replied.

“Hey, I’m not the one who picked up and moved to Europe for twelve years,” said Minnie, laughing. “Look – all of this is to say, I don’t know how _you’re_ feeling about Don, but don’t expect him to want to pick things back up, okay? He’s a really dedicated dad, and he’s probably really shaken up right now.”

“I wasn’t going to –“ Daisy stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’d be nice to be friends again.”

“Well, Donald could definitely use more friends.”

Someone rang the doorbell. The girls looked at each other, confused. Minnie shook her head and pushed off of the counter. “I’ll get it!”

She walked out to the front door, Daisy trailing curiously behind her. When she opened it, there stood Donald’s twin sister – identical in almost every regard, except for the long ponytail she’d pulled over her shoulder. Della wore a t-shirt probably borrowed from Donald, since it proclaimed ‘I <3 My Junior Woodchuck Scout!’ across the front.

“Hi, Minnie,” she said, giving a little waist-level wave.

“Oh, Della!” Minnie greeted, raising her voice enough that the boys – still in the living room – would hear her. “Hello!”

“So Donald _is_ here,” Della guessed. She smiled, leaning to the side a little to make eye contact with Daisy. “Hi, Daze!”

“Hi,” replied Daisy, waving back.

“Look, Min, I don’t know why Donald’s avoiding me,” said Della, still not crossing into the house, “but could you just tell him that I’d like to see _him,_ too? He’s been great about giving me space to get to know the boys, but he’s my _brother_.”

Minnie chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment. “I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Della said. She shifted her weight as if to step back, but just as she did Donald slid into the hallway behind Minnie and blew right past her.

He caught his sister by the wrist. “We’re going home, Della. Mickey, Minnie, thanks. I’ll see you guys around.”

“It was good to see you, Donald,” Daisy called after him.

Donald froze, glancing back. “Yeah, Dais. You too.”

And then he and Della were gone.


	2. heroes of stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some Duck Twin Drama? Because here we go.

“You guys go ahead,” Donald said, waving ahead toward the door. The boys and Scrooge did go scurrying off to the jet, but Della stayed behind. “Dell, go. I’m not in the mood for an adventure.”

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” snapped Della. She gave a wild gesture back after the rest of the family. “Do you just _not_ want to see me? Say so!”

“No, I just – you need to get to know your sons, I don’t want to get in the way,” Donald lied.

“Bull,” Della said flatly. “You’ve been acting weird ever since I got home.”

God, even eleven years apart and she could read him.

“Why don’t we _both_ stay home?” she continued, her tone suggesting that this was _not_ an optional experience. “That way we can catch up. I’ve missed you a lot, Donnie.”

Donald sighed. “I’ve missed you, too, Della.”

He let her lead him up to the sitting room between their old bedrooms (where neither of them lived anymore). Once they were settled on the big smushy couch, she clicked her tongue a few times. “Okay, Donald, lightning round catch up. Tell me everything about everyone.”

“Well Huey –“

Della waved a hand impatiently. “Not the boys, dummy, they’re old enough to tell me about themselves. Your friends! _Our_ friends!” She took a deep breath, her eyes darting back and forth as she cast around for someone specific. “Daisy. She’s been out of the country? All this time? I didn’t think she was _that_ mad at you, Don.”

“She was doing a masters, maybe a PHD too?” Donald answered. “She always was smart, Dais.”

“Sure was,” agreed Della. “When did you two start talking again?”

“Well, I saw her about ten minutes before you did,” said Donald. He shrugged. “We haven’t seen each other since – well, you were there.”

“You haven’t talked to Daisy since _Mickey and Minnie’s wedding?”_

Donald shrugged again. “By the time I stopped being angry I had the boys. If anything important had happened, Minnie would’ve told me.”

Della shook her head. “Okay, fine. No Daze. How about Joe and Pancho, how are they?”

“I – I haven’t seen them in a while,” Donald said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were busy.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t seen José Carioca and Panchito Gonzalez sometime in the last two months?” said Della, disbelieving. “ _You_ , Donald Duck, who once ran off while we were mid-treasure hunt because you heard they were in town and you hadn’t seen them in person in three whole weeks?”

“We were busy,” Donald repeated. “Zé and Panchito have been touring, and I’ve been raising three sons –“

“Three _sons?”_

“Yeah, Dell,” said Donald flatly, “sons. You know, ducklings? Small creatures that you take care of when they hatch and then feed and clothe and send to school?”

“ _My_ sons.”

Donald froze. He looked his sister dead in the eye, and with a deadly serious tone said, “Della, you left. You were reckless and selfish and you _left_. I’m the one who’s been working three awful jobs at a time to keep food on the table and clothes on their backs.” He pushed up off of the couch. “Ugh, this is why I didn’t want to talk to you, Dell.”

“Donald –“

He’d started pacing. “If I send you off with the kids and Scrooge adventuring, everything is fine. I get to watch my family all together doing their favourite thing in the world – you know the boys asked for you for their birthday when they turned three? – but as soon as I get close I see my whole world falling to pieces.” He stopped by the window, looking out at the landing pad where the others had just come home. “You’ve never been a mom, Della, not really. You picked up and left me with your mess and have the nerve to come back and tease me for not having friends anymore.”

When he turned around, he found that Della had stood up and was just behind him. “It wasn’t my fault, Donald. It’s not like I abandoned my eggs on purpose!”

“Isn’t it?” Donald snapped. He took a step toward her. “You could have waited, Dell. I kept saying it, over and over. You wanted to give them the stars, _fine._ But you could’ve waited until they were old enough to care.” He let out a small, frustrated huff.

“Just because _you_ never had any ambition –“ Della started. She threw her hands up. “You’re just jealous.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” said Donald. “Let me let you in on a little secret, Dell – the boys weren’t born with all your experiences of the world in their heads. Just because _we’ve_ been everywhere, doesn’t mean it’s not special for them.” He shook his head. “Not that you’d know, because you haven’t been there to show them anything!”

“You’re so selfish!” Della accused. “You just want to keep the family all to yourself! And I’ve been out there _alone_ all this time!”

“ _I’m_ selfish?” Donald replied, a hand on his chest. “Me? Who gave up my _whole damn life_ to look after your eggs? I had plans, Dell!”

“You just keep –“

“Mom? Uncle Donald?” a small voice broke in.

Donald and Della, who had been steadily moving closer together to the point that now they were beak-to-beak glaring at each other, both turned to the door. Huey stood in the doorway, a hand on the half-open door.

Donald darted away from Della in an instant, his posture intentionally relaxed. “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

“Were you guys fighting?” Huey asked, taking a half-step back away from them.

Della and Donald looked at each other, and in perfect, instinctual unison said, “ _No_ , of course not.”

Huey looked from one to the other, uncertain. “Well, uh, we’re home. Mrs B says dinner will be ready in ten minutes so you guys should, uh, come down and get ready.”

“We’ll be there in a minute, Hu,” Della said. “Thanks for coming to tell us.”

Donald nodded in agreement, and the two of them watched Huey back out of the room.

“We’re not done with this,” she said in a low voice once they were sure Huey was gone.

“No,” agreed Donald, “we’re not.”


	3. all these separate parts together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wound up a lot longer (almost twice as long) than the previous ones, and has a slightly different format and POV, but I think it works. This is the last one for this story, though I have some ideas about making this a series and diving further into the Daisy situation and into Della and Donald figuring out how to co-parent and things.

“Have you noticed that Mom and Uncle Donald are acting, like, super weird?” Huey asked his siblings, staring up at the ceiling while the others played cards.

“They haven’t seen each other in a while,” Dewey replied. “Wouldn’t you feel weird if we hadn’t seen each other in eleven years?”

Huey pushed himself onto his elbow. “That’s never gonna happen.”

“But if it did,” said Dewey, “it’d be weird. I bet Mom and Uncle Donald thought they’d never not see each other for ten years either.”

“I –“ Huey squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sort out that sentence. “I suppose so.”

\--

Huey tugged on Donald’s shirt hem.

“What’s up, Hu?” Donald asked, scooping him up.

“Are you our Dad?” Huey said innocently.

Donald didn’t answer right away, just took a deep breath with his eyes closed while he bounced Huey on his hip. “No, I’m not. You don’t have a dad.”

“Do we have a mom?” asked Dewey, who was trying to climb Donald’s other side.

“Of course you have a – “ Donald caught himself, squeezing his eyes shut again. “Your mom was my sister, but she’s gone now.”

“Your sister?” prompted Louie, “What’s a sister?”

Donald actually laughed at that, bouncing Huey a little more. “She was my – well, like you three. Except there were just two of us, and she was a girl.”

“Ew,” the triplets replied in unison.

“She was my best friend in the world,” Donald continued. “I miss her more than anything.”

\--

“I just feel like I keep catching them at each other’s throats, you know?” Huey continued. He pushed onto his elbow. “Like they only stopped fighting because I came in.”

“Look, man,” Louie said in a low voice, his eyes fixed on his cards, “I don’t want to go borrowing any more mom drama, okay? We _just_ got her back.”

Huey chewed on his tongue a little.

Dewey patted his leg, “I’m sure if there was something important happening, they’d tell us.” He glanced from Huey to Louie. “Wouldn’t they?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Louie said. He pushed up off of the floor. “I’m going to go find Webby. _She’s_ not a major downer.”

“Lou, I didn’t –“

But Louie was already gone.

\--

Donald scooped up the wailing ball of fluff in green – _which one was green?_ – and held him to his chest. “Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. What’s the matter?”

The baby, who Donald was pretty sure was Louie but he might have to check the chart, did not say anything, because he was a newborn. Donald kissed the top of his fluffy little head. He bounced a little as he walked over to the wall where the Baby Chart was pinned.

The Baby Chart, which had been mailed to Donald anonymously but was written in suspiciously familiar handwriting which he suspected was Mrs B’s, was a laminated poster, color coded, upon which Donald kept track of feeding schedules, diaper changes, naps, and everything else involved in coordinating care for three infants. He’d been right, green was Louie. And Louie _shouldn’t_ need anything right now, per the chart. He’d eaten just thirty minutes ago, he’d been napping soundly until bursting into tears, his diaper was dry.

And yet, Donald was holding a crying baby in his arms and completely out of his depth.

He just danced in little circles, bouncing gently as he moved around the kitchen. “Lou-oo-ooooo, I love you-oo-ooooo, I wish I knew-oo-oooo how to help you-oo-oooo,” he sang aimlessly.

As Donald bounced and sang, Louie started to calm down, his head starting to nod onto Donald’s chest. He stroked the feathers on the top of Louie’s tiny head. The boys were so _small_ , so fragile.

So… three of them.

Donald sighed, pressing his cheek to Louie’s head. He was twenty-one, barely equipped to take care of himself, let alone three babies.

He’d just have to figure it out.

\--

Dewey had followed his brother out, but by the time he’d made it into the hallway Louie was gone. He shrugged, just choosing a direction and starting to walk down the hall. He called Louie’s name, but didn’t get an answer.

Muffled voices drifted into the hall.

Thinking he might finally have stumbled across Louie and Webby, Dewey ran to the door they were spilling from, only to stop in his tracks when he got close enough to make out what they were saying.

“- never meant you to get stuck with my problems, Donnie,” Mom was saying, her voice sad.

“Well, I did,” Uncle Donald replied. “You ran off and never came back. You keep saying you were alone, Dell, well so was I! Ever think of that?”

“Donald, I’m _sorry!”_ said Mom. She sounded like she was crying. “I’m sorry.”

“Aw, Dell,” Uncle Donald said. One of them sniffled.

Dewey crept closer to the door. It was open, and through the crack at the hinges he could see Mom and Uncle Donald sitting close together at a small table. Donald had one arm around his sister’s shoulders, and the other was holding her hand.

“You’re right,” Mom said in a low voice. “You’ve always been right. I shouldn’t have – shouldn’t have gone.” She let out a weak laugh. “You’re just so damn stubborn, it’s hard to agree with you.”

Uncle Donald laughed, too. “ _I’m_ stubborn?”

“Yeah, you’re stubborn,” she said, elbowing him. “I’m sorry for being so cavalier about leaving, I just – it’s hard to admit making a mistake that big.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Uncle Donald looked down at their hands, sitting on the table. “It’s – thank you.”

“You’re – you and the boys live here full time, right?” Mom asked. “I really want to try to rejoin the family, but I don’t want to disrupt their lives too much. I don’t want to disrupt _your_ life too much.”

“Della, you never _weren’t_ part of the family,” Uncle Donald answered. “You’re my sister, you’re their – their mother.”

Mom sighed. “I’d like to be. But whether they realize it or not, you’re always going to be more of a parent to them than I am.”

Dewey took a step closer to the door, but as he shifted his weight the floorboards creaked. Mom and Uncle Donald looked up, toward the door.

\--

“I’ve got everything all color-coded,” Della said excitedly. She pushed the nursery door open – the nursery being the formerly unused bedroom next to Della’s and across the hall from Donald’s. It held three cribs, though at the moment all three eggs were together in one – the blue one, in the middle – under a heat lamp. “For now, they’re all together because I heard that babies from the same clutch like to be close when they’re newborns. But this will be Dewford’s crib, when they get a little bigger.”

“Dewford?” repeated Donald. “You’re really sticking with that?”

Della glared at him. “We’ve talked about this, Don. Hubert, Dewford, and Llewellyn.”

“Yeah, I was just hoping you’d changed your mind,” Donald said, shaking his head. He supported his sister in so many things, but she wasn’t strong at naming.

“Well, I haven’t,” said Della. She looked around the room, full of colorful decorations and toys already, and sighed. “Do you think I’m going to be a good mom, Don?”

Donald bumped his shoulder against hers. “Of course you are, Dell. And you won’t be alone. You’ll have me, and Uncle Scrooge, and all of our friends to help you.”

Della hugged him tightly. “Thanks.”

\--

Donald was sure he’d heard the floorboard creak, just outside the door. He squeezed Della and stood up. There was a decent chance it was just Webby, who idolized Della, just hoping to catch a few seconds of her time. A smaller chance that it was Mrs. Beakley or Scrooge, but neither of them would feel a need to creep up on Donald and Della. That left the greatest chance: Huey, Dewey, and/or Louie.

He walked to the door, pulled it back, and sure enough there stood Dewey, frozen in place.

“Hey bud,” he said. “Come on in, your mom and I were just talking about you boys.”

He put an arm around Dewey and guided him into the room and into a chair across from Della.

“Hi, Dewey,” Della said, smiling. Oh, good, she’d wiped her eyes. She must’ve realized, too, that it would be one of the children.

“HaveyouguysbeenfightingbecauseHueysaidyouguyswerefightingandIthoughtyouprobablyweren’tbutLouiegotreallyupsetandIwenttofindhimandIfoundyouinsteadanditsoundslikeyou _were_ fightingsowereyoubecausethatwouldreallysuck,” tumbled out of Dewey’s mouth very quickly and all in one breath.

Della just stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open. Donald let out a laugh, despite himself. The poor girl hadn’t had to sort out kid-speak since she talked that way herself.

“Yeah, we have,” Donald answered honestly. He’d learned a long time ago that lying to the boys wasn’t worth the effort. “But we’ve got everything worked out now, okay? Where are your brothers? We should talk as a family.”

“Um, Huey’s back in the playroom,” Dewey answered, with a vague gesture toward the room that was once meant to be their nursery. “I don’t know where Louie went, I was trying to follow him but –“

He broke off, shrugging.

“Well why don’t you and I go get Huey,” Della suggested, reaching over to pat her son’s hand, “while your – Donald goes to find Louie. I’m sure he’ll be better suited to calming him down than I would.”

Donald nodded. He had a suspicion as to where Louie might have gone anyway.

Sure enough, a few minutes of trekking through house later, Donald found Louie exactly where he’d guessed. He crossed the room, sitting down next to Louie on his own bed.

“Everything’s going to change, isn’t it?” Louie said in a low voice, leaning on Donald.

“Yes,” Donald answered honestly. “For the better, I think.”

“But you and Mom were fighting,” said Louie. It wasn’t a question – he’d probably heard them at it.

“She’s my sister,” said Donald, shrugging. He looked down at Louie. “You fight with your brothers all the time, and Dell and I have at least ten years of fighting to catch up on.”

Louie giggled despite himself, but it faded fast. “You’re not going to – Uncle Donald, you’re going to keep living with us, right?”

Donald squeezed him. “Of course, Louie.” He paused. “You want to know a secret?”

Louie nodded.

“You boys were _supposed_ to grow up here,” Donald said. “I didn’t buy the houseboat until after your mom left. We lived with Uncle Scrooge before that – I was always planning to help Della raise you, and then – well.” He shrugged, with a little wave of his hand to try to indicate the path their lives had ended up taking. “I’m not giving up on that plan just because my sister and I don’t always get along.”

“Okay. Good.”

Donald squeezed Louie again. “Come on, we’re going to go have a chat. Your mom and brothers are waiting for us – and we’re going to figure out how to be a family, okay?”

Louie stood up. “Okay.”

So they left Donald’s room to join their siblings and face down the rest of their lives.


End file.
